


Engagements at a Young Age

by Rosa_Cotton



Series: Engagements at a Young Age [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Young Aragorn, Young Arwen, Young Eowyn, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosa_Cotton/pseuds/Rosa_Cotton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Aragorn meets two very different girls while out in the woods one day...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Engagements at a Young Age

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _The Lord of the Rings_ , all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, marched through the woods; a stick which acted as his sword swayed lazily in his hand. He was lonely and bored. He had grown tired of battling imaginary foes; he wanted a real playmate to fight with, climb trees with, and race. 

The nine-year-old’s aimless wandering was halted by the sound of giggling not far off. Curious, he stumbled into a glade and saw a girl who appeared to be about his age sitting in the shade of a tree and sewing what looked like a banner. Even from a distance Aragorn could tell the girl was very pretty and noble. Surely she must be a princess! For the first time in his short life, Aragorn became flustered. Why, he had already developed a crush on her! 

Timidly he approached the girl who was now singing softly. Suddenly she turned her head and beheld the blushing boy. She did not say anything but only watched him come to a stop before her. Carefully she inspected him from head to toe, and decided – despite his messed hair and dirty, slightly torn clothes (the result of falling into some mud and on a couple of rocks) – he was worth speaking to. 

“Hello,” she said in a reserved tone, her face serious. 

“H-h-hello,” Aragorn squeaked back. His knees knocked together as he stared at her. 

“You are trespassing, boy,” she warned. 

Aragorn felt terribly intimated and humbled at how she had called him “ _boy_ ,” as though he was not worthy of her company. He shifted his feet. How he longed to win her favor! 

“These parts belong to my father, Lord Elrond, Master of Rivendell,” the girl informed him. 

“Oh, no, it is quite all right,” stuttered poor Aragorn, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “he…he is my uncle…sort of…” 

The girl’s eyebrows rose, and she studied him closely. “Then we are distantly related cousins,” she mused. 

She tossed her head, and Aragorn then realized what a beauty she was. Even though it was black, her long hair shone in the light. A hint of pink was in her pale cheeks. Her dark eyes sparkled. _She is grand_ , he thought to himself. 

The girl fixed her eyes on him once more. “I am Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Lord Elrond,” she introduced herself proudly, offering him a dainty white hand. 

Aragorn went to take it and hesitated a moment as he saw with horror how dirty his own hands were. But he was a gentleman nonetheless and kissed her hand. He watched, almost heartbroken, as Arwen wiped her hand with a handkerchief. 

“I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn,” he said, feeling a bit proud. “I will be king someday.” 

Arwen gazed at him with awe. “I have always wanted to be a princess, but Father is not a king. He is a lord; so my title is Lady Arwen. But to be a queen, it would be much grander than being a princess… _You_ will need a queen.” Greed shone in her eyes, but she only smiled sweetly at Aragorn. “Do you think I could be your queen someday?” She gazed at the boy with wide, hopeful eyes. 

She did like him! She didn’t think him silly, unworthy of her favor; nor did she mind that he was dirty! Oh, happy day! Aragorn grinned broadly. 

“I hope so!” he exclaimed. 

Arwen clapped her hands in delight. She immediately started deciding what color she would wear in the wedding. She would have to get her hair done really nicely. 

“When we are king and queen, we can explore all of Gondor and have great adventures,” Aragorn said excitedly. 

Arwen’s smile creaked a little. 

“We can practice sword fighting together. We can have races on our horses. And have campouts. Climb trees. And…” Oh, there were so many things they could do! 

By now Arwen looked truly alarmed. “Oh, no! I do not like to explore outside. It is too hot at times, and there are bees and spiders. And suppose we got lost? I will never camp out. And the ground is too hard to sleep on. And you don’t know what creatures are lurking in the dark! I would not be able to sleep a wink. I do not fancy having adventures. _And girls do not climb trees!_

“What I will do when queen is wear fancy clothes – I do love to sew. And wear a crown and take pleasure in being called ‘Your Highness.’ We will have entertainment all day and have balls and banquets as often as possible. I will sew all your clothes. Did I mention I like sewing? A lot of the time I will do nothing but sew all day long. It is great fun. I will try to keep up the habit when queen. But Aragorn, please don’t fight. I do not know what I would do if you ruined your clothes. And if you hurt yourself…I cannot stand blood – it makes me faint. I cannot stay in the sun for long – it turns my face bright red; so horse races are out of the question. I must stay as pretty as possible – a queen must be so,” she stated firmly. 

With each passing moment as Aragorn listened to what Arwen wanted them to do and not do as king and queen, his awe and his crush lessened and lessened until both vanished completely. What a boring, silly girl she was! What fun was there in staying inside and being pretty and sewing all the time? And no sword fighting?! 

“I think we should have a ceremony where we formally become engaged,” Arwen decided. 

Aragorn’s eyes widened. “But aren’t we too young to become engaged?” he asked hopefully. 

“Of course not! You are…what? Nine? And I…” Arwen trailed off. She was 137 years old but thought Aragorn may think she was too old for his taste. “I am...8! Yes, 8! And long engagements are very romantic, don’t you think so?” 

“Uhh…” 

“Now then,” Arwen went on, “to begin the ceremony, we must kiss.” 

Aragorn wanted to object, but he was a future king, and he would not be a coward. He had to go through with it. 

The two were about to kiss when the sound of something coming down a tree caused them to pause. They watched as suddenly a child dangled from a branch of a tree to their right, then dropped to the ground. This unexpected newcomer gracefully rose to her feet and brushed herself off. 

Arwen looked at the strange girl with annoyance. How dare this girl interrupt her and Aragorn! She must be a peasant, with her plain blue and brown dress, wheat-colored hair in a single braid, nose burned by the sun and numerous freckles dusting her face – and having been in a tree, of all things! Really! 

On Aragorn’s part, he only stared at the girl. Here was one who climbed trees! He grinned. 

Arwen stepped forward. “You weren’t spying on us, were you?” she demanded. 

The girl gazed at Arwen with wide gray eyes. “No. I was at the top of the tree, enjoying the view,” she answered simply, looking puzzled. 

“Who are you?” Arwen asked, still not sure what to make of the girl. 

The girl noticed the silent Aragorn and returned his stare with a shy smile. 

“My name is Eowyn,” she answered Arwen’s question, never taking her eyes off Aragorn. 

The spell between them was suddenly broken by Arwen’s laughing. The two gazed at her in puzzlement. 

“What a funny name!” Arwen gasped, wiping tears from her cheeks. 

Eowyn’s eyes filled with hurt and offense. 

“It isn’t half as funny as ‘Arwen’!” snapped Aragorn. 

The girls gaped at him. He blushed furiously and looked down at his feet. The outburst was the first thing that had come to his mind, and he had spoken before checking himself. But it had been really rude of Arwen to say such a thing to Eowyn. He thought her name very pretty – she very pretty, in fact. What feelings of guilt and shame Aragorn started feeling vanished when he discovered Eowyn looking at him with thanks. His heart started to pound. 

Arwen huffed and returned to her work, no longer interested in Aragorn if they were fighting, and moved away slightly, leaving the others to themselves. 

Aragorn introduced himself shyly and was grateful when Eowyn shook his hand without concern of how dirty it was. 

“Aragorn…” she repeated and smiled. “I like it. 

He looked away, embarrassed and pleased. He was liking her more and more as time went on. 

“Do you often climb trees?” he asked after a moment. 

“I love climbing trees! I like exploring the woods; I go on expeditions sometimes with my brother and cousin. And when I’m older, I shall learn to fight, to be a shieldmaiden,” she said excitedly. 

From that moment Aragorn was a goner. He had eyes for no one else. She was perfect. 

They talked of many things as the afternoon slipped away, with Arwen eavesdropping, jealous that Aragorn had forgotten all about her. The youngsters’ merrymaking was interrupted by a far-off call for Eowyn. 

“I must go,” she said sadly. “Goodbye.” She waved to Aragorn and Arwen before starting to walk off. 

Aragorn watched her, sad she could not stay longer. “Will you come back?” he called to her. 

Eowyn turned back. “I don’t know.” At seeing Aragorn’s vast disappointment, she added, “I’ll try to come here tomorrow.” She was glad to see his face light up. She waved a final time before running off as her name was called again. 

Aragorn sighed and, whistling happily, went off, thinking pleasant thoughts about Eowyn. Suddenly he halted. He had forgotten to ask her to be his Eowyn. He would have to try to remember to ask her next time. Content with this, he left without wishing Arwen a good day. 

And the little lady herself? She only pouted, vexed she would have to think of another way to become a princess, but preferably a queen.

 

THE END


End file.
